Ronald Stuart Thomas

Good

The old man comes out on the hilland looks down to recall earlier daysin the valley. He sees the stream shine,the church stand, hears the litter ofchildren's voices. A chill in the fleshtells him that death is not far offnow: it is the shadow under the great boughsof life. His garden has herbs growing.The kestrel goes by with fresh preyin its claws. The wind scatters the scentof wild beans. The tractor operateson the earth's body. His grandson is thereploughing; his young wife fetches himcakes and tea and a dark smile. It is well.